The power of Love
by llcyyxx
Summary: It is said that the Love of Beren and Lúthien was so great that their line would continue to the end of days. It was also said that the fate of Arda was intertwined with the Silmarils. Aphrodite was the last of the line of Lúthien, holding a Silmaril. Her fate was to do more than simply be mortal. (CaranthirxOC)
1. Silmaril

The world was slowing down again, the explosions from the buildings and the battling maiar and valar and beasts of darkness all a danger to Aphrodite, who held the Silmaril in her hands, clutched to her chest as she ran away from the agents of darkness. When they had found the first one, chaos had ensued, the second and third making their way back to Arda, the host of the valar and the Fëanorions returning to Arda. That was when she had lost her sister. It had only been yesterday that her parents had been blown apart, passing to her their weapons of old. They said that she was the descendant of Beren and Luthien, the line that would never die. But it was clear that she was going to die, on the streets of New York. The ring of Barahir on her finger almost glowed with recognition to the Elessar stone and Silmaril she held upon her person.

It was then that she ran into the seven sons of Fëanor, all fighting off a pack of orcs and Uruk-hai. They all wielded swords and were magestic, Fëanor not far off from them.

"Fëanor!" She shouted, dodging skilfully the blows from the twisted elves. He looked to her and she shouted again. "Silmaril!"

He ran over to her, but just as she was about to pass it to him, she was swept up into a pair of arms, completely confusing her.

"I thought that you had gone from the world my love, but Eonwë was wrong. You have returned to me, my goddess." The voice in her ear was one of the Fëanorions, one she recognised as Caranthir from the pictures on the news and in the history books. But it was never said who he married, nor that she had died.

But to play it safe, she simply brushed him off. "Please get off me. I know who you are, but I have never met you in person before, so I will have to request that you remove yourself from my person and let me give the Silmaril to your father."

He let go slowly, Aphrodite walking to Fëanor and passing him the Silmaril. But it resisted. It was as if it were two magnets repelling each other.

Then the shot went off. A searing pain ricocheted through her entire being as she collapsed to the ground, not attempting to resist her imminent death, as she knew she would be with her family again. Caranthir held her close to him as his brothers killed the offending being. Why he had recognised her as his love she did not know, but for now it was OK just to be held as she died. He sang softly in Quenya to her, soothing her as she fell into her deep sleep, the Silmaril emanating bright light from her chest.

Wherever her fëa ended up, she only hoped that it was more peaceful.


	2. Oromë

She stood up the moment the pain faded, registering the dark landscape around her. No clouds covered the sky, but still, not even a new moon was to be seen. The Silmaril in her hand glowed brightly, a beacon of light in the land around her. The green forest was at a state of twilight, the stars shining brighter than ever before. A light came from the forest to her side, a white steed and a golden armoured man galloping past her, coming to a slow stop. But this was no man. It was Oromë, huntsman of the valar.

She walked to the valar, who had three companions with him, one with dark hair, one with gold and one with silver. The three representatives sent to Valinor to report back to cuiviénen.

"I do not know you, female, for you are no Ainur, nor one of the Eldar. Tell me how did you obtain that stone?" Oromë called down to her.

She held it out to him, so he took it, marvelling at the light it gave among the twilight. "It is a Silmaril my Lord Oromë. It holds the light of the two trees combined and would be safer in the west, instead of Middle-earth. Would you take it to Manwë for safekeeping?"

He was clearly surprised at her knowledge of the valar, a mere mortal with that knowledge. "Would you not prefer to give it to him yourself my lady? I am sure that that would be more polite of you to do so." He held out his hand to her, in an offer to ride with him.

"That would be far more polite. It would not hurt to witness the undying lands if only for a brief passage of time, seeing as I am mortal." She took his hand and he helped her on, causing her hair to swing forwards over her shoulder, notifying her of the changes it had undertaken. It was no longer dark as Lúthien's hair was, but a glowing colour that was neither gold nor silver. It seemed to change constantly, edging more towards silver the more she stared at it. Oromë rode on, his three companions following him.

As they rode, Aphrodite fell asleep, the soothing presence of the vala in front of her calming her racing mind. She dreamed of the lord Caranthir, how he had looked at her with the same adoration that she had seen her parents look at each other with. Maybe he had fallen in love with an elleth that she looked like? Or maybe there was more to his actions towards her than that? Whatever the cause was, she found herself dreaming of him singing the song he sang to her, an unconscious smile coming to her face as she hummed the sweet tune in her sleep.

When she woke, she found herself on the ground, on top of a cloak while her weapons lay beside her, Narsil and a bow of the Galadhrim, passed down to her through her ancestors. Sitting up, she saw that Oromë kept watch while the three kings slept.

"How long have I been asleep?" She stretched.

"Well, judging by the way your hair matches the waxing and waning of the two trees, I'd say about four days, according to Laurelin. Five if you count Telperion." He smirked a little as Aphrodite's eyes widened.

"I'm honestly not that surprised, and as a Valar, you should know why." She rolled onto her side, listening to the nearby waves from the sea. "I am surrounded by my ancestors, yet I am almost completely a different race to them. Ingwë isn't a direct ancestor, but his sister Indis is one of them. I am related to all three races of the elves and I am one tiny bit maiar, but in actual fact, I am mortal. And I will die, no matter what you will to happen, for I am of the race of men, those who walked under the sun alone, never meant for the twilight like this."

She felt Oromë come to her side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I have seen your memories and know what is to come, but I shall not act upon them, for then you shall not exist to tell us of those memories. But I do see a bright future for you, full of both life and sadly death, but you will prevail, no matter what the Lord Caranthir told you when you saw him."

That was enough for Aphrodite to break. She sobbed into Oromë, all the held back grief of the last year pouring out at that moment. When her tears finally slowed, she looked up to the vala, before simply holding onto him tightly. "Thank you for letting me cry on you. It feels better now, even if the hurt is still there. The grief was getting too much and I couldn't hold onto it any more."

Oromë simply held her tightly, just as her father used to, whispering comforting words to her and calming her back to sleep.


	3. Aman

Aman was a green place, no sign of death or destruction in sight, only life. The sky was gold, Aphrodite's hair reflecting that. The five travellers were met by Eonwë, who simply bowed to them and whispered something to Oromë, who nodded in response.

He then greeted them. "Welcome lords Ingwë, Finwë and Elwë, for you have been expected, although I do not recall ever having learnt of you, lady Aphrodite. You are welcome here anyway." He nodded in respect to her, leading the group inland on horses that were provided for them. Aphrodite rode ahead, having seen many maps and pictures of Aman, the way to the two trees a clear path in her head. North west towards the large imposing trees.

It was when Telperion waned that they finally reached the trees, where Manwë and Varda stood under the trees, clearly awaiting their arrival.

"Aphrodite, last descendant of the Dunedain, welcome to Aman. Eru informed me of your coming and I sought to welcome you. I also hear that you have something for me?" Manwë spoke to her, his voice as sweet as the air itself.

Reaching into the base of her quiver, she unlocked the base and opened the pocket, revealing the Silmaril within. "Manwë Sulimo, I present you with the Silmaril that was cast into fire by Maedhros Fëanorion, almost returned to Fëanor, but for some reason decided to do...this." She gestured to her hair, which matched the sky's light. "I am going to give it to you now, in the hope that it shall be safe here, in Aman."

She held out the jewel, allowing Manwë to take the light and stow it in a pocket on his majestic blue robes, "Thank you. For if you had not done this deed, the Silmaril would have been lost forever. You are purer of heart than most of your race, enough so that you are able to dwell in Aman. Do you accept the offer of a home here that I lay before you?"

That was...shocking. She, a mere mortal had been offered the chance to dwell in the undying lands? "There must be a catch. No offer as great as that comes without a catch."

Varda, who had been speaking to the three elves while they were having their conversation, suddenly spoke up. "I assure you, there is no catch. You have nowhere to go and your heart is pure enough to dwell here. You are not entirely mortal however, and this factors to your staying here."

Aphrodite slowly nodded. "Um...alright. I will stay. But on one condition. I do not have to live with the elves."

"That is an acceptable condition. But where would you live?" Manwë asked her, Varda having gone back to speaking to the elves.

She thought about all of the stories she had heard of the Valar, the traits they all held and the power they all possessed. "I do not wish to simply live in one place. But I would like to learn. I do not mind where I live, as long as I am not interacting with a large amount of people at a time."

He bowed his head. "You are welcome to any of the dwellings of Aman, for it is now your home, Lady Aphrodite."

She bowed to him and he directed her to the conversation between his wife and the three kings, who were rapidly bombarding her with questions about Aman in Quendi.

Varda introduced Aphrodite, who bowed to the kings, before they looked at each other and bowed back. "Ingwë, Finwë, Elwë. I am delighted to make your acquaintance."

Varda translated for her and they said something back, which she translated as; "We are also happy to meet you." The four non-ainur smiled at each other, before Eonwë stated that they were to return to Cuiviénen to bring back the rest of the elves.

And that was the last that Aphrodite would see Elwë for, for many ages.


	4. Fëanor

Aphrodite had been working on it for weeks. It had taken a year of design and calculations to come up with the plan, and she had finally done it. She had made a glider, with added boosters for takeoff. And the engine was a hydrogen cell, so made water. Just as she was delicately painting on the final patterns onto the underside of the wing, a voice came from the door.

"What are you making?" It was the voice of a child, who had dark hair and was dressed in fine things, obviously the child of a noble.

"A glider. I'm going to use it to fly." Her tone was unemotional as she concentrated.

"Who are you? I've never seen you here before." He obviously wasn't going to go away anytime soon.

"I am Aphrodite, ward of the Valar. Who are you?"

"Curufinwë. But my atar said that my ammë named me Fëanáro."

Aphrodite finished her work quickly and put her paint away. "You are the son of Míriel and Finwë?"

"Yes, but ata is always busy with the gold lady, Indis. She won't ever go away and I don't like her. She keeps saying she's going to be my new ammë and I don't want a new ammë. I want my real ammë. Do you think that she didn't love me?" His voice was cracking and he looked like he was about to burst into tears.

Aphrodite moved to take the child into her arms, letting him cry into her. This was obviously part of the trigger that caused Fëanor to raise his sword against Fingolfin. "Ssh Fëanor. It's alright. I'm sure your atar loves you really. Do you want to know something?"

He nodded into her chest, "What?"

"One day you are going to be great. You are going to go to the east and help to vanquish the evil that is over there. You are going to be the bravest and the most powerful leader. But you need to remember that you are loved Fëanor. Even if you do not see it at first, you are loved. Always remember that you can find love anywhere, even in the most dark times, there will be people who will stand behind you and fight." She let him hug her until he fell asleep, when she set him on a bed while she cleared her items of craft away, hanging her glider in the temporary accommodation that she took up while working in Aulë's halls.

She then took the sleeping Fëanor to his father, handing him straight into his arms, whispering the Sindarin blessing into his ear. "_Losto vae, Fëanor._" Finwë thanked her, but then she interrupted him, holding a hand up to silence him. "Your son is unsure of himself. He feels that the lady Indis is replacing his place in your heart and that he is left out. I suggest, High King, that you spend more time with your son. If you let him drift too far out, then he will be lost to you forever. And that will be your inevitable downfall."

With that, she walked away, her hair bound in cloth and an apron over her tunic and leggings, hoping that Fëanor would turn out slightly better than her history remembered him to be.

As she walked away, she was suddenly pulled into another corridor by a hand, finding herself looking into the eyes of none other than Olórin.

"Go away Olórin. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone right now."

"I just want to show you something."

She raised her eyebrows, suspicious at his behaviour. "What is it you wish to show me?"

"Just come with me."

She followed him to her accommodations, where he sat her down on her bed, admiring the glider that hung above it. "What do you want?"

He reached into his pocket and brought out a pendant on a chain, the pendant seeming to be part of the Silmaril that she had given to Manwë all those years past. "Where did you get this? This is part of the Silmaril! You must have received permission from Manwë to take it, because otherwise the trees will never be restored!"

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I assure you that I received permission from Manwë. If I had not, then I would not have had Aulë create this for you. I have seen the Elessar, but it does not have enough power to sustain your livelyhood beyond these shores. You are more than the mere mortal that came to Aman all those years ago. Your maiar blood has spread through your veins and you are far from one of the edain."

That was what she had dreaded from when she had noticed the strange behaviour. The question. "I am sorry, but I am going to have to decline. This Silmaril is far from my status. It is not the one that Beren stole, therefore it is not mine." She hugged him, passing the piece of the Silmaril back into his palms, but he pressed it into hers.

"No, keep it. It is yours after all."

He began to walk from the room, but stopped when he came to the door.

"Aphrodite. I have no doubt that you will find love with him. I know for a fact that your heart will be captured so deeply that you will follow him to the ends of Arda."

And with that, he left, leaving her with the piece of light in her hands and years to wait for her answer on Caranthir.


	5. Ilmarin

**So... Feedback of any kind would be nice?**

* * *

It had been a week since she had encountered Fëanor, since she had been given the piece of the Silmaril. But none of that was important as she stood 10 metres away from the cliffs, the glider in front of her as she took too a sprint, jumping off the cliff face and riding the air current like a surfer rides the waves, screaming with delight as she speed a metre above the sea, boosting herself every once in a while as she turned corners and looped over herself, revelling in the freedom that was to fly. Her hair had been bound tightly on her head and she wore blue leggings and a navy blue coat, the hood covering her hair that would inevitably get in the way. But truly, this was freedom. No ground or sea to get in her way.

Aphrodite spent hours up there. She was joined by the birds at some point, but she eventually became physically exhausted and headed over to Taniquetil. She spotted Ilmarin, he home of Varda, steering herself so that she landed on the doorstep. But then the doors suddenly opened and she tumbled into the abode, ending up as a heap before Varda and Manwë. "My lord. My lady." She mumbled from her uncomfortable position on the ground. "I can fly now. Did you see?"

She heard laughter as Ilmarë pulled her into a sitting position. "You looked exhausted. How long were you up there?" The maiar questioned.

"Well, it was the peak of Laurelin when I took flight, but I could swear I saw Telperion wane at least twice. Can I stay here to rest? If it's not too much?" Her voice sounded as exhausted as she felt, her entire body feeling like lead.

"Of course." Aphrodite squealed when she felt someone picked her up, the shade of gold hair betraying him as Eonwë. Obviously he had nothing better to do. "Where would you like your...glider is it called?"

"Safe. Not where it can be broken. Where am I being taken?" She mumbled, attempting to keep her eyes open as she was carried somewhere.

She heard chuckling from next to her head. "To a place for you to sleep. You hardly ever come here, but there is a room set aside for you. Manwë was highly amused and impressed that you managed to fly. We all thought that Ulmo would have to catch you!"

"I find your lack of faith disturbing. Can I go to sleep now?" She yawned and brought her hand to her mouth.

"Of course. Manwë and Varda both want to speak with you when you wake up."

She nodded sleepily, closing her eyes and falling onto the path of dreams.

When she woke, she could feel pain in her chest, the soft sheets around her attempting to lull her back to sleep. But she resisted, sitting up and stretching. Then she noticed that she was not alone in the room. At her bedside was Ilmarë, who looked at her with curiosity.

"Why do you sleep with your eyes closed?"

Aphrodite shifted herself to face the maiar. "Because that is how mortals sleep and I can't sleep with my eyes open?"

The maiar passed her a glass of water. "Drink up. Food is in the main hall. Your glider is safe with Manwë." She smiled and gave the girl a hug, making her realise that her hair was no longer bound. And it had grown a lot since she had last seen it.

Ilmarë left the room, leaving Aphrodite to wash and get dressed. Then there was her hair. It still reflect the time of day, but it was almost unimaginably long. Thinking back to a fairytale she had heard as a child about a girl who was locked in a tower and the only way in and out was to climb her hair, she giggled, but the lighthearted thoughts did nothing to dull the ache in her heart. After an hour of braiding her newly-washed hair, Aphrodite was ready to go. Gathering the singular braid into a bundle, she made her way to the main hall, where she would inevitably have to speak to Manwë.

Sure enough, he was in the main hall, Varda alongside him.

"I'm sorry that I took so long, I had not anticipated the length of my hair and I had to at least braid it. But obviously, it is going to tangle like headphones and I will need to do something about it after I have spoken with you." Her voice was a little joking, but it betrayed the ache in her chest a little.

The vala motioned for her to walk with him to a more secluded place, where she found her glider to be. Tying her hair up like rope, she checked the glider over, opening the engine compartment and making sure that the boosters were fully functional, which they were.

"What have you accomplished with flight?" His voice sounded from the bench at the side of the courtyard. "I know of the ache in your heart and why it is there, but flight will only prolong the inevitable. You will fade without him."

That was what the pain was...she was fading. "Would I be able to prolong it enough to wait for him?"

"Yes. But what do you wish to do other than fly?" Aphrodite sat next to the wind lord, untying the knot and allowing the braid to fall to the ground. "Eventually the pain will become too much for you to be able to concentrate on your balance and not even I could save you then."

"I will need to know how to use my weaponry, even if it will not be for many years yet. I know the basics already, but I plan on following the ñoldor to Middle-earth when the time comes, but I will not take the same route. Even so, it is not the safety of Aman over there. Any of the elves who saw cuiviénen can tell you this." She wrapped the braid around her hand, unwrapping it again and repeating.

"It is decided then. You will train under Tulkas and you will practice flight. It would help if you had a place to live permanently though, as you will need to have stability in your training." His words rang true, as well as the hint of an offer.

"Could I stay here, at Ilmarin? It would be the perfect place to take flight from, and not many elves come here. I would be able to train in one of the gardens and if I ever need to put my skills to use, then I can always join Oromë on a hunt." She kept her reasons simple and logical - at least they were logical in her head.

He put an arm around her shoulder, which seemed to dull the ache in her heart - probably due to the fact he was a powerful being. "Of course you may stay here - but beware that we are not always in corporeal form and when we hold council you may not see us for days."

Aphrodite leaned into the wind-lord's paternal embrace, "I understand. And I can look after myself. I may be dwarfed in age compared to you, but I am no child. I have but one question though - would I be able to fly to Middle-earth and back?"

"It would be possible, but not recommended."

She smiled at the king of the valar, "I was just wondering, seeing as I slept the entire way here. That boat journey wasn't very enjoyable either."

Manwë simply laughed, as in his eyes, she was still a child.


	6. Celebration

**I got a really nice review that encouraged me to write another chapter before the weekend...hope you like mini Fingolfin, no matter how bad my descriptive skills are! (Just try to imagine him as a bouncy 10 year old...)**

* * *

"And the aim of attending the wedding would be?" Aphrodite looked at Ilmarë like she had gone mad.

"Well, you are awfully introverted and your blood is more elf than maiar, even if those parts are highly diluted. It will be an _experience._" She wrapped an arm around the former mortal's shoulders, leading her to her room on the far side of Ilmarin. "You will benefit from this!"

Aphrodite was still skeptical to the idea, but attending Fëanor's wedding to Nerdanel would be the first social experience she had ever attended in Aman. "I wouldn't have anything to wear, I haven't used Quenya properly in years and I am utterly terrified of social situations! I can handle a battle, fine, that's simple, but I have to make a good impression on _immortal_ beings. That probably all know each other! And will gossip!"

Ilmarë put her hands on her shoulders, stopping her from the erratic pacing that she had taken up, making her look her in the eyes. "Aphrodite look at me. You. Will. Be. Fine. And as for something to wear, I had that fixed. And you have been using Quenya for years! You hardly ever notice the language changes because you're so used to them! As for the social problem, I will come with you! And possibly Eonwë, but I will definitely be coming with you to help you not to make any huge social blunders!"

"Really? Which language am I speaking now?"

"Sindarin."

"Right. Can we go back to Quenya so I can practice speaking it?"

"Of course, now let's get that dress on you so you can attend!" The maiar pulled her along sharply, almost making Aphrodite run to her room and drawing a bath while she looked at the dress. It was silver and gold, the fabric not really one, but it would be the opposite of her hair when worn due to the instability of colour.

Ilmarë returned and pulled her into the room, waiting for her to get undressed and in the bath before washing her.

"I can wash myself."

She scoffed. "You, need to allow people to help you. Now, as this is your first social occasion, do you want me to at least cut your hair so it falls to your feet, or do you want me to leave it?"

"2 metres from the base of my neck. I am only five foot, but I would like it to be longer than me still."

Ilmarë braided her hair into a single braid starting at the nape of her neck and measuring 2 metres. She added about 10 cm and then took a knife and cut the braid off there. Catching the rest of her hair, she tied it in a knot, leaving it on the floor for the moment. She then washed the uncut hair, brushing it out and braiding it again. The two then moved into Aphrodite's room, sitting her on the bed while Ilmarë put intricate braids into her hair, taking her hair to her knees. It was around evening, when Telperion became brighter and the celebration would start at the peak of Telperion, only 5 hours away.

After Aphrodite was dressed, Ilmarë went away for five minutes, coming back looking stunning. Aphrodite had the Silmaril around her neck, the light faintly glowing on her neck, the shoulder-less neckline just brushing it.

Ilmarë took a mithril circlet from the folds of her dress, placing it on her head and finally allowing her to look in the mirror.

She looked, well, beautiful. The Sindarin style circlet with leaves appeared white on her silver hair, the Silmaril the mark of the ñoldor and the dress as gold as the Vanyar. Her brown eyes darkened her entirely pale appearance, her lips red and full. Her skin was aetherally pale and glowed with a shimmer. Maiar magic. It just had to be, because she did not appear that beautiful ever - not even when she made an effort.

Ilmarë suddenly pulled her from her thoughts and they made their way to where an eagle was waiting, courtesy of Manwë, to take them to Tirion. Ilmarë swung a grey cloak over Aphrodite, helping her mount the eagle before taking her non-corporeal form, obviously taking the easy way there.

Oh how Aphrodite wished she could do that at this particular moment.

~π~

The celebration was large. The eagle, whose name was Gwaihir, had dropped her off onto a roof near the celebrations, where she had jumped down to ground level, meeting Ilmarë, who had taken the cloak back and fixed a few things before they had walked to the wedding celebrations.

"You know, eternal spring can be very boring sometimes."

"How so?" She seemed to be in disbelief that Aphrodite had complained about such a great thing.

"Well, I miss winter and the fun that came with that, the heat of summer and the colours that went with autumn. Eternal spring takes the spring out of it, how new life comes after the cold winter and the newborn animals and melting snow. I miss ice-skating. That was something I always did, all year round, but there was nothing like the feeling of skating on real ice, the challenges it held and the spinning and jumping! You in Aman have missed out on a great pastime."

Ilmarë was silent after that, obviously contemplating what she had said.

They got to the celebrations, music that was springing with joy being played by minstrels, while many danced around the unmistakable figures of Fëanor and Nerdanel. He was wearing red, while she wore black, the two of them contrasting and blending like fire. An ellon with gold hair suddenly came up to her, offering to dance with her. Ilmarë pushed her into him gently, but it was enough for him to accept it as a yes. As it turned out, he was Ingwion, son of Ingwë and prince of the vanya. He seemed very happy to dance with her, pulling her a little too close for her liking and his hands wandering a little too low on her back.

When the dance ended, he asked for another, but Aphrodite was out of breath, despite her high physical fitness, and needed a drink, so went to the wine. One entire cup did nothing. But it served it's purpose as a drink, so she went back to being a wallflower, as she really didn't want to dance with anyone. When she saw Ingwion looking for her again, she quickly found the place where the drinking games were taking place. She had relatively high tolerance and she wasn't drunk from the strongest wine, so why not try it?

They were a little hesitant to allow her to join in, but when Aphrodite suggested a new idea for a drinking game, she was welcomed into the group. A book was fetched from the library and they all chose a word, proceeding to drink a cup of wine every time it was said. By the end of the book, they were all drunk and Aphrodite's hair was now a gold.

She turned at a tap on her shoulder to see Ingwion, obviously a little drunk, but looking a little startled. "I could've sworn you had silver hair when I danced with you!"

"I did, why?"

He looked a little surprised at her calm demeanour. "You have gold hair and a silver dress now. Why?"

"Because of something that happened a long time ago." She stood up and made to leave the drinking circle, her balance a little off, but she was not as addled as the other elves. "Now if you shall excuse me, I'm going to find my friend." She made to walk past Ingwion, but he grabbed her hand, pulling her close.

"I am not letting you go that easily, pretty maiden. You are far too interesting to be on your own." He was definitely drunk now. "Would you like me to protect you?"

She unhooked her hand from his grip, hitting a pressure point as she did so, causing him to pass out dead in her arms. Aphrodite slung him over her shoulders, walking over to where Ingwë was, talking to Finwë. "My lord, your son is unconscious. Where should I put him?"

Both High Kings looked very startled. Ingwë took his son from Aphrodite, an attendant taking him away from him. "I recognise you...Aphrodite! When we went to visit Aman, we found you on the way! Finwë! Do you not remember her?"

Finwë's face came to an expression of realisation. "You brought my son back to me when he got lost in Aulë's halls! Then you told me to pay more attention to him, which I did and still try to do so! He is not so close with his half-brothers though, but I wish he would get along with them more."

Aphrodite wanted to face-palm right there and then. Fëanor would always be a little distant from his brothers, but obviously her advice had not paid off!

Two small beings suddenly ran past her, the dark hair confirming them to be ñoldor, but they both looked an awful lot like...oh. She had met the twin sons of Elrond once before and these two were definitely their ancestors, Fingolfin and Finarfin. Two other dark haired beings also ran past her, probably Findis and Irimë. A golden haired elleth came past her, kissing Ingwë on the cheek and slipping her arm into Finwë's. This was Indis, sister of Ingwë and second wife of Finwë.

"Ñolofinwë! Arafinwë! Come back here and talk to your uncle!" Finwë shouted, bringing both elflings back to the group. They looked so much like the twins!

Then Fingolfin really surprised her. "You're really beautiful. Are you a maiar? Or a vala?"

"No. I am descended from a maiar though, but not for several hundred generations. I am of the atani, or the secondborn." He then looked at her ears and gasped.

"Your ears are round! They don't point! Are they as ticklish as my ears?"

"No."

"Where are you from?"

"The east, where your father comes from."

"What's your name?"

"Aphrodite. And I know yours, Ñolofinwë. And I can guarantee that one day, you will see the eastern sky and how the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, the stars shining in the sky alongside the moon on a cloudless night, the winters and the beautiful snow!"

He looked awestruck, Arafinwë having run off and left his brother to talk to her. "Are there monsters in the east? They say that elves disappeared from cuiviénen, never to be seen again, which is why we had to leave. Can you tell me about them?"

Aphrodite moved him away, to sit down at the sidelines, where many were eating food. "The first you will know about is the orcs, once elves, but twisted into creatures of darkness. That is the the same story for goblins, twisted by Morgoth in his fortress to do his bidding. There is also the Balrogs, made of shadow and flame, at least 20ft tall and hard to kill, but I know of an elf named Ecthelion, who killed four balrogs. Do you want me to continue?" She looked at the enthralled and utterly interested young Fingolfin, unaware that he would one day have to face these terrors.

He eagerly nodded, so she continued. "The werewolves and vampires are deadly, strongest at night and terrors to the locals. And the trolls, made from stone and strong, slow to think and move and turn to stone in the sunlight. And finally, the mightiest of all monsters is the dragon, scaly reptiles that breath fire and fly like eagles, laying waste to settlements in seconds."

"Tell me more!" He was almost jumping.

Maybe if she used their Sindarin names, they wouldn't know she was telling a story about them. "I will tell you the story of Turgon and his city Gondolin and all of the happenings that went on there."

~π~

"I definitely enjoyed that!" Aphrodite exclaimed as she and Ilmarë left Tirion.

"I am so glad that he didn't realise you told him he was going to die. You took a big risk in telling him that."

She mounted Gwaihir, thinking about the events that were to come. "I should make a map of Beleriand. In fact, two. One for the beginning of the first age and one for the entirety of the first age, with a side note for all of the places."

"As long as you are the only one to see them, you are allowed to make them."

"See you back at Ilmarin!"


	7. Beach

**I am getting **_**really **_**nice reviews from one person. It would be nice to have more, but hey, you can't have it all, can you?**

**And regarding her being a Mary-Sue, Aphrodite was good at science and maths in school (I'm on my way for A* at GCSE), making the fact that she built the glider more believable, as she has also seen the light of the two trees, making her Calaquendi and 'smarter', her original knowledge of aerodynamics extended through her theoretical work.**

**BTW I ship Russingon. (Maedhros/Fingon)**

The sea was crashing against the rocks on the beaches, Aphrodite walking along with her glider in hand. The sound of laughter reached her and she turned to see a tall redhead and an average sized ellon with dark hair, three elflings running around them. One had gold hair, the other silver and the dark haired one had gold woven into his hair.

Deciding she didn't want to be found, she took off from her glider on the spot gracefully, years of practice having given her the skill to. She glided over the waves, doing tricks and near-missing disasters for shots of adrenaline to her bloodstream.

Weaving through a stone column maze, she turned over so she was upside down, setting the challenges for herself as she avoided imminent death over and over again.

Of course it was never going to last, as she clipped one side on the stone, disbalancing the glider momentarily, but it was enough to send her flying into the water, thankfully just outside of the maze. The water was deep, but it felt safe. Ulmo was obviously protecting her at this moment. But then the safeness left her and she felt herself deprived of oxygen, attempting to get to the surface of the water. But that wasn't going to happen. The world went dark and she felt the waves carry her away, to where she didn't know.

~π~

The first thing she registered was the voices. Then the fact her head was on top of someone's chest, being held by someone. It was Quenya that was being spoken, children's voices in the mix.

It suddenly occurred to her that she wasn't breathing and needed to, desperately. Coughing water from her lungs, she rolled onto her side, barely registering the hands that rolled her back when she stopped.

Opening her eyes, she saw red, black and gold around her, bright eyes of green, blue and grey looking at her.

"Where am I?" She managed to croak out, coughing again to her side.

"Close to Alqualöndë. On the shores of Araman." The red voice with green eyes said.

"I know where Alqualöndë is. Who are you?"

"Findekáno!"

"Findaráto!"

"Tyelkormo!"

"Kanafinwë."

"Nelyafinwë. Findekáno found you on the waves. We thought that you had stopped living, as Míriel did."

Wow. No word for death. "The correct term is 'died', or 'drowned due to lack of Oxygen'. Take your pick, because those are more universal terms in comparison to 'stopped living'."

He frowned, "Can you walk?"

Aphrodite tryed to lift her legs, but to no avail. "No."

What he did next completely surprised her. He promptly picked her up and pressed her against his chest, carrying her to dry sand where he set her down and then walked over to the shoreline, shouting for Irmo.

He then came back over to her, settling himself so that her head rested on his lap.

"I may not have the energy to move, but I can still talk."

He looked down on her. "So talk. Your voice is beautiful."

Oh god. He _liked _her. Hopefully he would get over her when Fingon grew up.

"You should be treating me for shock, seeing as I have come to a near-death experience. Meaning you need to elevate my feet, not my head."

He looked at her with puzzlement. "What is your name?"

And he ingnored her. If she went into shock, it would be his fault if she died. "Aphrodite. I come from the east, where the sun outshines the stars and the stars are sprinkled across the sky at night, the moon to traverse the skies and die every sunrise over his love for the sun."

"Very poetic. I've heard stories of monsters and fallen cities."

"I told Ñolofinwë those stories. While we wait for Irmo, do you want me to tell you another?"

He nodded, the others coming to join him at that moment, Fingon sitting very close to Maedhros, while Finrod stroked her hair alongside Celegorm, Maglor sitting next to Maedhros by her chest.

"Allow me to tell you of the tale of a hobbit, whose name was Bilbo Baggins..."

That was definitely one for the children.

Irmo never came.

~π~

"...and when he came back to the shire, he found the most peculiar thing. All of his home and belongings were being sold, simply because most of the town folk thought he was dead! And that taught them that no matter your race or size, even the smallest and shyest of creatures can achieve the greatest things!"

By the time Aphrodite had finished the story, her hair was silver, her body fully capable of moving now that she had rested herself.

She attempted to sit up, but found that Celegorm had fallen asleep on her stomach, Finrod absentmindedly stroking her hair still as he lay in the sand, snuggling up to her head.

"I would sit up, but..."

The two ellon immediately sprung into action as they removed Celegorm and Finrod from her, Fingon bouncing around still.

Aphrodite stood up and the two of them just stared at her. "What?"

They pointed to their heads, both gaping at her.

Had her hair gone normal again? Was it finally brunette? "What colour? I can't see it!"

"Silver. Your hair has gone from gold - to silver."

Her expression went down. "That's normal. If it goes dark, then that's my natural hair colour. That's when you people get excited over my hair changing colour."

They looked at each other puzzled, but then shrugged over it.

"Now I must go. I expect I shall see you again, as well as the rest as your brothers and sisters. So long!" And she left them utterly puzzled, off to search for her glider.

~π~

And so it was the next evening that the five told Fingolfin of the story they had received from Aphrodite, Fingolfin laughing over the ending. Then Fingon came rushing into the room, telling of a white eagle, to which they all looked out of the window of their rooms in Alqualöndë, to see a figure holding onto a white curved piece, spinning around and diving in the sky, a glow to match the two trees on her breast lighting up the sky like the stars from her stories.


End file.
